


All Hollys Eve

by TheDarkFiddler



Category: Protean City Comics (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Just be glad Windshear isn't in this or it'd be even sadder probably, Sad Holly feels, Sad Puck feels, Spoilers for F.A.L.C.O.N. Down and Death of Puck, This is my role in the fandom now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 21:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21125204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkFiddler/pseuds/TheDarkFiddler
Summary: John convinces Holly to get out of the lighthouse for Halloween, but neither of them are ready to confront the reality of what's happened between them.





	All Hollys Eve

“I’m just saying that you should have a costume, Holly. It’s Halloween!” Holly rolled her eyes at John.

“I’m not going to make fun of you for dressing up,” Holly said as she side-eyed John’s amateurish Snake Man makeup, “but it’s not really my thing, okay?” John considered her words, feigning an exaggerated thoughtfulness.

“Whatever you ssssssay, sssisster,” John sssaid though a sssmile. “I guesss I’ll be having all the fun!” Holly laughed, but the scowl on her face made it evident that she wanted to hate his over-the-top nonsense.

“Listen,” she said as the giggles began to die down, “I plan on having fun. And my plans work.” Holly froze briefly, he hand on the lighthouse door, before she shook her head to chase away whatever intrusive thoughts had tried to worm their way in. John narrowed his eyes at Holly, but respected the pause for a second before he responded.

“Right, Ms. ‘I Have a Plan,’ what IS our plan? I kind of figured we’d walk around, maybe hit up Dynamite’s Jacks.” Holly gave John a quizzical look as he continued rambling. “A movie is a little less ‘go out and enjoy the holiday’ but I think there’s a few interesting horror flicks in theaters. Or maybe-”

“What, you and Alina on a break?” Holly asked, chuckling a bit.

“Oh, uh…” John stammered, completely derailed. “We uh, didn’t work out. It’s like… we don’t even really know each other…”

“Oh.” A few seconds of awkward silence followed. “I didn’t… I mean, I was just joking, because-”

“I guess it does sound kind of date-ish.” Another pause. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Holly sighed, a long and careful sigh. “It’s not your fault that every time I go out feel like a special occasion, these days.” More awkward silence, while John’s face was crossed with a very obvious pang of guilt.

“I mean…” John cut himself off and shook his head. “No, I just tried to keep people from getting hurt. It felt like my job as Puck, you know?” He stepped forward and put his hand comfortingly on Holly’s back. She pulled away from the touch instinctively, but didn’t go far. “Maybe I should focus on people who are already hurt, though? It seems… doable. Practical.” Holly shrugged off his touch and crossed her arms, a very deliberate motion.

“Sure, whatever, John. Can we just… get going?”

The two set off into Protean City proper. John, in addition to his snake-adjacent makeup, was wearing some tactically ripped jeans, a leather jacket, and a faux snakeskin belt. Holly, in contrast, was simply dressed in what was currently her best outfit: a pair of blue dress pants, a red blouse, and a white hoodie to keep her warm. After about an hour of wandering aimlessly and taking in the city’s various decorations, the late-October chill got to them, and they decided to dip into a cafe for something warm to drink.

“I understand dressing up as heroes for Halloween, I guess,” John said as the two of them sat at an unoccupied table in the far corner of the cafe. “I just… have to admit it’s a weird mix of flattering and weird that that guy over there dressed as Puck, though.” Holly’s gaze followed John’s gesture, and sure enough there was somebody in an all-black getup, a plague doctor’s mask currently hanging around their throat, and a pair of pretty realistic-looking deer antlers poking through their hood.

“You have a strong aesthetic,” she shrugged.”

“I did, didn’t I?” John sighed wistfully, but if Holly noticed she made no mention of it.

“And, I mean, that Chance guy was always ranting about you, so you had a bunch of free publicity, too?” Holly took a sip of her hot chocolate. “Plus, you do a good job helping people.” John blushed and scrunched up his face.

“Plus, the costume is warm.” The two paused, then burst out laughing.

“Plus, the costume is warm,” Holly finally seconded. “The Mark Two suit…” she paused again, trailing off, and drank deep before she spoke again. “It was alright, I guess.” She paused, and John took a drink from his own cup to distract from the silence. “It chafed, though.” John snorted, spitting coffee all over the undersized table.

“Oh, you suck!” John started wiping furiously at his nose, trying to get the coffee out. “This is all I’m gonna smell for the rest of the night, Holly!” Holly was dying with laughter, but she finally offered him a napkin to use as a tissue, which he hastily grabbed.

“Really, though, they didn’t build that thing for comfort,” she admitted once John was no longer suffering. “They always said they were working on it, but…”

“Makes you wonder if it wasn’t intentional.” Holly huffed.

“It seems so obvious in retrospect. She- ...I was really dense, huh?” John shook his head before reaching out to grab Holly’s hand. The two locked eyes.

“No, we just had faith in something bigger and better than ourselves.”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Holly interjected, but John just kept going.

“Then when we knew better, we decided we’d do the best we could with imperfect tools. And… sometimes the outcomes weren’t great.” Another pause. Holly glanced away first, pulling her hand from John’s as she did and pulling into herself defensively.

“Yeah, well, you don’t live with the outcomes. Not like I do.”

“Do… do you think I don’t think about that night constantly, Holly?” John’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, barely audible over the general din of the cafe. “Because I do. I wonder what would have happened if I’d done this or that instead. What if I’d had different power? What if-”

“So what?” she spat back, cutting him off entirely. John shrank back into his chair. “You still have your home and your family. You have friends. School! You can go out into the city without having to spend hours getting yourself in the right headspace!” Holly stopped, suddenly aware of how quickly she’d raised her voice, and how much attention was on her now.

“Thanks for the drink, John,” Holly said breathlessly as she stood up and bolted for the door. “Damn it,” she muttered to herself, her fists clenched and trembling. As she got to the door, it opened in front of her, held open by a figure wearing a remarkably accurate amateur recreation of her Striped Eagle armor.

“Thanks,” Holly barely managed to spit out as she pushed by.

“No problem,” Holly beamed back, barely noticing. Holly stepped out into the street and ducked into the nearest alleyway. She put her head against the cold brick and started breathing in a very controlled manner.

“Holly,” John said as he rounded the corner.

“‘m fine,” she muttered back.

“Holly, you’ve been standing out here for fifteen minutes.”

Holly nodded, numb.

“I wanted to give you time, but…”

Holly nodded, numb.

“Do… Holly, do you need to go home?”

Holly nodded, numb.

John sighed and slipped his shoulder under Holly’s, giving her the support she needed to get back to the lighthouse. In the cafe, Holly was laughing and talking with the other patrons about the work she’d done remaking the armor for that night. Across the city, at Dynamite Jack’s, Holly and Holly were finishing up a set and about to dig into a plate of Explosive Nacho Cheese Fries. A block away, Holly and her girlfriend were just sitting down to watch _The Reaping Hour_, a second date.

“Maybe next time,” Holly mumbled to herself as she pulled herself through the threshold of the lighthouse.

“Maybe next time,” John agreed as the door slammed in his face.


End file.
